


Earning Her Wings

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is the boss in Heaven, F/M, Human Meg, Megstiel - Freeform, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1669568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Metatron is defeated, Cas is heading up the restoration of Heaven, when Meg is found there amongst the wandering souls! The Angels are horrified, but Castiel can see the good in Meg. He agrees to send Meg back to Earth to live as a human until the Angels are satisfied, but only if he goes with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earning Her Wings

Recipient: [](http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/profile)[**verucasalt123**](http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/)  
Author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[**fannishliss**](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)  
Artist: [](http://milly-gal.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://milly-gal.livejournal.com/)**milly_gal**  
 **Title: Earning Her Wings**

 

Summary: After Metatron is defeated, Cas is heading up the restoration of Heaven, when Meg is found there amongst the wandering souls! The Angels are horrified, but Castiel can see the good in Meg. He agrees to send Meg back to Earth to live as a human until the Angels are satisfied, but only if he goes with her.

Characters/Pairings: Castiel/Meg =  Megstiel  
Rating: R  
Warnings/Spoilers (if applicable):  This takes place in one possible ending for s9.  No spoilers intended.  Warning: this story portrays child abduction, but nothing graphic.  
Wordcount: 4590

Thanks so much to [](http://milly-gal.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://milly-gal.livejournal.com/)**milly_gal** for her wonderful banner and icons!!  :)  
And thanks to our lovely [](http://auntmo9.livejournal.com/profile)[**auntmo9**](http://auntmo9.livejournal.com/) for running this [fun exchange at SPN Big Pretzel!](http://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/?tag=fic%20exchange)

x===x

Castiel felt ill-suited for the job of sorting souls. He had expected Heaven to devolve into chaos while the Angels were gone, but the cells where human souls dreamed their eternal reward had functioned as designed.  In the quiet halls and grand chambers of Heaven, Angelic survivors sang to one another, a thin chiming echo of their past glory, and human souls who’d escaped their honeyed cells wandered, looking for greater meaning in paradise than a few home movies replayed until they wore thin.

In the last little span of time, Castiel had processed a Hunter, a professor of philosophy, a new age Shaman, and a church lady. The Hunter had wanted to fight, so Castiel had sent her to pitch in with the new garrison. The philosophy professor had lured Castiel into a long conversation with his avid gaze and insightful questions, until Castiel had shaken himself free and sent him to work with the soul sorters.  The new age Shaman was able to perceive his wings and faces and all his eyes and stared at him like she wasn’t sure if Angels were really valid.  He sent her to one of his lieutenants, to help with the ranking and order of the surviving Angels.  The church lady he quickly moved along to the library, where she could help clean up the mess Metatron had made of the scrolls, tablets, and parchments that remained of God’s word and the stories of Creation.

As the church lady stood to leave, there was a ruckus outside his office door.  Castiel made excuses as he ushered her out, to find Liriel and Suthiel in the reception area grappling with the soul of a dark-haired woman.

Castiel assumed she’d been a Hunter. Hunters were fractious and they usually managed to remember some kind of sigil to escape their cells, prowl Heaven and cause trouble.

“Let go of me! Let go!” the woman growled.

“Please, do as she says,” Castiel directed the Angels.

“But, Castiel — look at her!” Suthiel cried.

The woman thrashed violently at the sound of his name, but both Angels had a good hold on her now, so Castiel finally got a clear look.

It was Meg.

“Hey, Clarence, surprise, surprise!”  she drawled, pulling against the Angels who held back her arms.

Shock, joy, wariness, anger — a fleet of emotions tore through him.  Protectiveness reared up inside him, and greed, fueled by an urge to seize her out of the hands of his compatriots.

“Let her go,” he commanded the Angels.

“But Castiel —“ Liriel objected.

“It’s a demon!” Suthiel finished, obviously horrified.

“If she is a demon, how do you assume she came here?” Castiel asked them. Castiel had never seen the face of God.  His hands were stained with blood, not so different from Meg’s.  If Castiel could profit from second chances, so could she.

“In the confusion, with the other souls, when we opened the gate,” Liriel suggested.

“But look more closely,” Castiel prompted.  “Do you not see the good in her heart?”

The Angels shuddered and peered, grudgingly.

“Gosh, boys, you’ll give a girl a complex,” Meg murmured, rolling her eyes.

“This is Meg,” Castiel said.  “She is my ally, and my friend.  Please release her.”

Reluctantly the Angels let go of Meg’s arms and she shook herself free of them, straightening her red leather jacket, shaking out her long dark hair.

Castiel relished the surge of affection he felt when she grinned at him, saucily lifting her chin and kissing his cheek, hugging him close.  He had missed the smell of her hair.

“I’m so glad to see you, Meg,” he murmured into her embrace. Having grieve, having accepted that he’d never be held by her again, he did not want to let go.

“Likewise, I’m sure,” she returned, her sultry voice in his ears, no longer gone forever.

“Castiel,” Liriel said, her voice timid but insistent. Suthiel had hastily withdrawn.  “Please, explain how this demon can be allowed to remain in Heaven. It is anathema to all we have stood for, lo these many aeons of our existence.”

“Was not Lucifer himself an archangel?” Castiel asked, as Meg turned to stare at her accuser with inky eyes.  “Did his song not fill this very hall, his light not shine in the chambers of the thrones?”

“Of course,” Liriel answered, “but not after his fall.  You yourself have purged many Angels deemed unworthy of Heaven. How can you allow this demon to live where you put so many of your own brothers and sisters to the sword?”

“She’s got you there, Clarence,” Meg said out of one side of her mouth.

“Many souls rise to Heaven after repenting of terrible crimes,” Castiel pointed out. He slipped his hand into Meg’s and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“But her soul,” Liriel shuddered — “is black, black as hell.  Where is the proof of her repentance?”

Castiel grew annoyed.  “You are blind to the light that shines at her core.  Meg cared for me, she sacrificed herself for me and my friends in the fight against the Leviathans and the demon king.  She has proven herself to me.”

“And are you to be sole arbiter?” Liriel questioned, standing her ground.

Castiel sighed.  “No.  No.  You are right, Liriel, to challenge my sole authority.  We must call a tribunal and do this properly.”

“What?” Meg asked, whirling.

“Seven Angels will be chosen at random to hear our case,” Castiel said.  “Don’t worry. Decisions are more unbiased now than they’ve been since the Lord was heard through the mouth of Joshua.”

The tribunal was quickly assembled and Castiel presented the case.  Meg sat primly enough in her chair, but she couldn’t restrain herself entirely from fidgeting.  The hearing took little time for Castiel to argue. The tribunal communed with one another and announced their decision.

“The Demon Meg shall return to Earth in human form,” the tribunal speaker announced. It was Elurafel, who Castiel remembered of old, from his days as a Watcher.

“I will go with her,” Castiel proclaimed, standing.

“Why?” Elurafel asked.

“I will assemble her preferred human form, and I will accompany her until she has proven her worthiness in the eyes of Heaven.”

“But Castiel — your work is here,” the speaker objected.

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “But the work is proceeding apace.  There are many Angels, and all of them know what needs to be accomplished.  I am a warrior, not a discerner, and I leave Heaven in good hands. This tribunal — the very fact that I lost my initial argument — proves that Heaven is beginning to run smoothly again.  For the sake of Heaven’s mercy, watch over us, Elurafel, and see if you do not witness Meg’s redeemed nature firsthand.”

“We will watch,” Elurafel answered.

“Thank the tribunal,” Castiel whispered.

“Thank you for your judgment,” Meg said sweetly, following Castiel from the chamber.  He could feel her anger, but he could also feel the way she held back, and her relief that the Angels had not summarily wiped her from existence.

“Your self-control is admirable,” he said without hesitation.

“I’m giving it all I got,” Meg said, teeth gritted.  “Why didn’t they just kill me?”

“That’s the kind of thing we’re trying to avoid from here on out,” Castiel explained.  “I know you know the atrocities I’ve committed.  I’m trying to make sure Heaven is rebuilt in such a way as to avoid such dire mistakes in the future.  This tribunal is evidence we’ve built a working system.”

“So, you’re really gonna Fall again, just for little ol’ me?” Meg asked.

“No,” Castiel said.  “I am not Falling.  This is no sin.  I am accompanying you back to the Earthly realm, where you will have a working human body, and your life may begin anew.”

“But why?” Meg said, pulling him to a halt as they strode along a Heavenly corridor leading to the Veil.  “Why leave Heaven? You’re needed here.”

“I would not simply send you back to Earth,” Castiel said.  He felt his grace thrumming in his wings, fiery in the eyes of this simulacrum of his vessel.

“Okay,” Meg said.  “But, why?”   He had the stare of a warrior who had faced down Archangels, but she had no problem matching his gaze.

“I have missed you, Meg, a great deal. I do not wish us to part so soon after this unexpected reunion.”  His grace burned with the sincerity of his words.

“You’re so sweet,” Meg murmured, but Castiel had trouble reading her inflection.

“Come,” Castiel said, and without further ado, he phased them through the Veil.

In the ether, he held Meg’s soul cradled against him.  She was just as demonic as Liriel and Suthiel had accused, but to Castiel, Meg was unique.  A daughter of Azazel, she was Nephilim, and her lineage shone forth in the nobility of her spirit.  She had been a true devotee of Lucifer, taught since her birth of the Fallen Archangel’s superiority by her father, and it was only after Lucifer’s return to the Cage that Meg had begun to ally herself more closely, as Castiel thought of it, with Team Free Will.

Yet Meg had been a torturer (just as Dean had been, Castiel noted to himself), and she had caused much suffering (like himself, Castiel admitted).  Could she really be redeemed from such stains on her soul? Could anyone? Could he?

Castiel found a place for them to materialize.  He’d always been partial to parks.  He pulled his vessel together and stepped into it; it was a little trickier to reassemble Meg’s human form, but he remembered it so well, it was only slightly harder to bring back into existence than his own had been.

Meg breathed in with a gasp and opened her eyes.  She stared around, wide eyed, at the bright sunny day, the grass, the trees, the flowers.  Birds were singing loudly.  Somewhere a dog was barking.

“Wow,” she said, and breathed in again.

“Do you like it?” Castiel said.

Meg frowned. “I’m not sure.”  She scowled at her hands and shuddered.  “I feel …  tied.  I can’t unbind myself from this body — defenseless!” She glared at Castiel.

“These are the tribunal’s terms, but you are not defenseless,” Castiel said. “I defend you.”

“Thanks ever so much, Sir Clarence,” Meg said sarcastically.

“You prefer that I return to Heaven?” Castiel asked, unwilling to do so, but giving her the choice.

“No,” Meg said grudgingly.

“How do you feel?” Castiel asked.  “Hot?  Cold? Well? Ill?”

Meg took a third deep breath and closed her eyes.  “Hot,” she said, “but also cold. Well enough, but … my body was so much stronger when I was first alive.”

“You require human things now,” Castiel pronounced.  “Sleep, food, shelter.”

Meg’s eyes flashed, but she smirked.   “Woman doesn’t live by bread alone, Clarence.”

“No,” Castiel agreed.  “Sam would recommend a good Cobb salad, and Dean would also order a beer and a cheeseburger.”

Meg laughed.  Her soul sparkled in Castiel’s vision, a night sky full of stars.

“Sleep, food, shelter,” she agreed with a sigh.  “Where to, then?”

Castiel luxuriated in his own power as he flexed his wings.  “Anywhere,” he smiled at her. She had helped him when he was at his weakest — now he could return her kindness.  “Anywhere you like.”

“Anywhere I like,” Meg replied, looking happier.  “That has a ring to it. Hmmm.  Anyplace warm.  The sea.”

Castiel took Meg’s hand, her warm, human hand, and transported them to a seaside town, a boardwalk.  It was like any beach town — dirty, cheap, but the ocean was vast and the air smelled like salt.

“Is this okay?” Castiel asked.

“Sure,” Meg said, looking around aimlessly.  The sun shone overhead. There was a steady stream of foot traffic moving up and down the boardwalk.

“Sit here for a while, while I earn us some money,” Castiel said.

Castiel stood at the edge of the boardwalk.  He took off his trench coat and folded it into a little pile.  He invited Meg to sit near it.

“This is where they’re supposed to throw their money,” he stage whispered.

“Paying you to move along?” she snarked, one eyebrow raised.

“Rewarding me for my miracles,” he said, raising his voice.  He spread his arms wide, and a golden ball of light lifted from one hand, drifting lazily up over his head and down into the other hand.   A crowd began to gather, cooing their amazement, as the ball of light split into three, that whirled around Castiel’s head, changing color and leaving rainbow trails behind as they circled.

Castiel’s blank face and simple flourishes charmed the crowd, while Meg hooted and clapped and stirred them up.   After about fifteen minutes Castiel finished with a flourish of fireworks that flew up out of his pockets.  The crowd clapped and cheered and almost everybody handed Meg folded bills before they wandered away.  After they’d unfolded and counted it, it was plenty for their first meal: a bottle of El Sol, a cheeseburger and a salad for Meg, and a cup of coffee for Castiel, who liked the way it smelled.

“I used to work in a convenience store,” Castiel said, elbows propped on the greasy table.

“That sucks,” Meg said, both hands full of burger.

“Honest work,” Castiel corrected with a frown.  “But doing a few light miracles is a whole lot easier.”

Meg nodded, chewing slowly, savoring. “This is so good,” she mumbled, mouth full.  “How is it so good?”

“You are human now,” Castiel said.  “It tastes good.”

“I forgot what my hunger was,” Meg said, “that empty, gnawing feeling.  Why didn’t I just eat?”

“You were a demon,” Castiel acknowledged. “You were hungry for more than just food.”

“Beer is good; it makes me feel happy,” Meg smiled.  “Like blood.”

“I don’t think blood will make you feel happy any more,” he said.  “I hope you do not wish to try it.”

“We’ll see,” Meg said, reflecting.

After eating, Meg and Castiel sat on a bench for a while and watched the people go by.  Meg smiled at the mooning young lovers, frowned at the impatient parents, and sighed at the old people hobbling along.

“They are all beautiful,” Castiel said.

“Weak, imperfect,” Meg muttered, shaking her head.

“When they are weak, it makes them strong,” Castiel said.

“Teach me your ways, old man,” Meg laughed, but then choked.  “Hey, did you see that?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “I did.”

The man strolling along the board walk outwardly appeared like any other, but a wrongness clung to him that Castiel could almost smell, like rotten meat.

“It’s not a demon,”  Meg whispered, as the two of them trailed behind the man.

“No,” Castiel said, “more’s the pity. Just a very sick human. I think we are about to save a life.”

Meg shook her head slightly, frowning.  “Why do I care?”

Castiel locked eyes with her.  “You are finding your redemption, Meg.”

“Huh,” she said.  “I’m not sure I like it.”

They followed the man for a long way, till he turned off the boardwalk.  Castiel shielded them from sight, just out of phase, and the man led them to a room in a rundown motel several blocks back from the beach.

He took out a key card and let himself in, closing the door behind him.

Castiel opened his eyes and looked inside the motel room.  A terrified little girl was chained to the plumbing in the bathroom, crying as the man approached.

Castiel kicked in the door, surprising the man, who lashed out at Castiel, but Castiel simply stopped his hand in midair and touched his forehead. He sank to the ground in a daze.

Meg rushed into the bathroom and tried to break the chain, but she wasn’t that strong any more.

“Castiel!” she called.  He broke the chain and watched in amazement as the demon tried to comfort the crying little girl.  Castiel dialed 911 and Meg held the girl until the police arrived.

They were taken to the station where they gave a simple story that they’d heard the man muttering about the girl he’d abducted.

The man, for his part, seemed confused, and couldn’t seem to answer any questions very clearly. The police transferred him for psychiatric evaluation.

The little girl was called Marissa, and Meg volunteered to keep her busy until her parents arrived.  They sat in a witness room along with a woman from Social Services, playing cards and eating snacks out of a vending machine until the girl’s parents arrived.  Meg was forgotten and the girl was reunited with her parents in a flurry of tearful laughter and frantic hugs.

“I’d double the reward, if I could,” the father said.  “We owe you everything.”

“Reward?” Meg said, eyebrows raised.

The Social Services woman spoke up.  “The man you followed is suspected in multiple abductions.  Rewards for his apprehension are substantial.”

“We’re just glad we found Marissa in time,” Castiel said.

“Thank god, thank god,” Marissa’s mother sobbed, smiling and crying all at the same time, her daughter’s hair wet with her tears.

Castiel gave the police an address.  They refused the offer of a ride, and walked through the night.  After all the excitement it was only ten o’clock.

“You must be hungry again,” Castiel said.

Meg’s eyes were bright, sparkling against the neon of the boardwalk.

“Hungry,” she said.  “Sure.”

Castiel ordered her a chili dog.  “Make me one with everything,” he said to the vendor.

“Right, buddy,” the old man sighed.

“Ha!” Meg laughed.

Castiel just shrugged.  He knew what to say — he’d seen it in a movie — but he still didn’t quite get it.

Meg enjoyed the chili dog, but not as much as the burger.  The two of them shared a cherry Coke and walked back to the address Castiel had given.  It was a nice hotel right on the beach.

They went in, and Castiel stepped up to the desk, Meg loitering behind him.

“Room for Castiel Novak,” he said, staring hard at the desk clerk, who checked her computer.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t see… Oh, yes! I’m sorry.  The honeymoon suite… and you’ve already paid.  Just sign.”

Castiel signed.

“Complimentary room service is included, and full spa privileges,” the desk clerk said.  “Please enjoy your stay!”

Meg and Castiel rode the elevator to the top floor.  Meg wandered in before Castiel switched on the lights, going straight to the window and opening the shades all the way. The ocean rolled out to the horizon, chaotic and peaceful in the moonlight.

“This is the life!” she crowed.

“Yes,” he agreed.

They opened the french doors and stood on the balcony.  The wind was a little cold and never ceased, blowing in off the ocean.

Castiel put his arm around Meg.  She was shivering a little and leaned into him.  They stood for a long time, just staring at the ocean, listening from twelve floors up to the roar and hush of the waves.

“So, we saved a little girl,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“But it’s not that simple,” Meg argued.

“No,” he agreed, watching her closely.

“Are your Angels watching?”   Meg rolled her eyes at the ceiling, then flipped it the bird.

“Someone is always watching,” he acknowledged drily.

“I think they’re about to get an eyeful,” Meg said.

“What?” Castiel asked.

Meg turned to face him, lifting her hands to the back of his neck, staring up into his face, in a way that left no doubt as to her intent.

“Oh,” he said.  She was so beautiful, roiling and chaotic beneath the surface, all that energy focused on him and how good they could make each other feel.

“Oh,” she said, grinning broadly.  Castiel felt warm between them where they were pressed together and cold where the wind stole their heat.

"How human are you right now?" Meg finally asked.

"How human would you like me to be?" he responded.

Meg swallowed, and Castiel watched with pleasure as lust washed over her.

"Human enough to enjoy it," Meg said, "but Angel enough that I’ll feel the burn.”

Castiel veiled himself with a number of his wings, and pulled her into his arms.  He left his Angelic awareness intact, but turned up the volume on his human senses.  She felt warm in his arms, soft.  She did smell slightly of sulphur, but also of musk.  Her lips fell apart as she ran a nervous tongue across them, and he knew she was doing it on purpose -- seducing his human responses with hooded eyes and a sultry mouth. Very well then -- he would be seduced --but so would she.

He lowered his own mouth to those poisonous red lips, and for the second time, he blessed her with his grace as his tongue plundered hers.  She tasted like chili and Coke.  He kissed her till she gasped, her demonic soul writhing against the soft caresses of his muted grace.

"Oh, Clarence, hurt me good," Meg mewled, panting, as he held her up against him.

He looked down into her dark, dark eyes, seeing behind her face, behind her demonic visage, the glory of the core of her, glowing hot with affection.

"Call it hurt if you must," he said with a smile, "but call me by my name."

"Castiel," she murmured, her demon tongue making a moan of an Angel's name.

“I like how that sounds,” he said, and kissed her again.

Castiel had touched darkness before.  He’d been to Hell, he’d seen the corruption of souls— he’d driven dozens of demons out of stolen bodies with the holy fire of his grace.  But Castiel was unlike most other Angels in one major way: he learned. He knew that being a demon only meant that a soul had survived excruciating tortures. He knew that Meg had preyed on Sam and Dean in the past.  He couldn’t guarantee that she would never torment another human again. But when he looked at Meg, at her demon nature, he rejoiced, because he could see the power of who she’d been, the joy she could take in making other beings suffer — and he saw how she’d redefined herself. If Angels could fall, was it so hard to imagine that Demons might ascend?

Castiel had lived for aeons as an innocent.  As a warrior, he killed; as a watcher, he observed.  Now, he was free.  He could feel what Meg felt as he held her in his arms.  Her body was so fragile now, so unlike the iron strength of her will, the power of her soul held in check.

“What do you want?” he murmured, feeling the softness of her shoulders, the warmth of her body against his.

“Huh?” she said, pulling back. “Whaddaya think?” she slurred, rolling her eyes.

Castiel stared down at the demon in his arms.  “Tell me, Meg, tell me what you want.  I want  — I want to give you … something good.”

“The big O, I hear that’s nice,” Meg muttered, kissing him again.

“Yes — strangely euphoric and for a moment, disorienting.  But it leaves behind a very pleasant lassitude.  Is that all you desire?”

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars,” Meg sang, out of tune.

“The moon?” Castiel said.  “But how would you breathe?”

“What is it with you!” Meg laughed, not unkindly. “Hot girl in your arms, do what comes naturally!”

“Stand motionless and silent for several thousand years, then help bring about an apocalypse?” Castiel offered.

Meg shook her head.  “What are we doing here? Really, Castiel?”

“I want you with me in Heaven.  Until we convince the tribunal that you deserve that fate, you will live down here as a human, and I will not leave you.” Castiel felt his wings mantling around them, encircling Meg in his aura, a living Angelic shield against any who would wish her ill.

“Oh!” Meg shivered.  “What is that — what are you doing?”

“Those are my wings,” he said simply.

“I remember the wings of Angels, my Father’s wings,” Meg said, “before we lost the Second War, and were cast into the Abyss.”

Castiel’s arms tightened around her, his wings drew in closer.

“Was it so wrong,” she whispered, “to believe in the Morningstar, the bringer of light? someone who would save us from endless torment?”

“He was the source of that torment,” Castiel said gently.

“The Angels locked the gates of Hell and tried to throw away the key,” Meg said.

“That wasn’t a good answer,” Castiel admitted.

“We should think of a better answer,” Meg said.

“You know the answer,” Castiel said.

“Die for a lost cause?” Meg scoffed.

“Live for the ones you love,” Castiel whispered, kissing her forehead.

“It burns,” she moaned, shuddering.

“That’s what you wanted,” he mouthed, kissing her face, nuzzling the sweet smelling skin of her neck.  “You wanted the burn, corruption into clarity.”

“Yes,” she hissed, and pulled him close.

The light shone in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.  The Angel mantled above her, shielding her from the curious eyes of his brethren, who surely saw more than they were prepared to understand.  The demon shed the clothes from her human form — and when he touched her, she felt the pleasure the way a human would feel it, and a hunger built in her body he knew how to feed.  They were naked, and they were not ashamed.  They came together, cleaving to one another, and became one flesh, and the Angel and the Demon found bliss together, breathing one breath, moving together in the dance his Father had ordained.  Her father had bred humans with Angels in a second prideful rebellion, but she wanted nothing more than to stroke, and hold tenderly, and maybe bite and claw, just enough to keep it interesting.  He smiled as he felt the tumult build in her body, exploding as she gasped and cried out his name, and it had never sounded so beautiful before, the Angels of Sorrows, or Thursday.

They lay together, breathing, and the world seemed peaceful.  They knew that somewhere, another war was brewing, but just for one moment, together, the night sky arched overhead, dark and bright, and things would be all right, somehow, if Angel or Demon could make it so.

x===x

Plus, Beautiful icons by the fabulous Mily_gal!


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